


Where We Love

by MauveCat



Series: A Year in the Life [7]
Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26684950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveCat/pseuds/MauveCat
Summary: Taylor and Estela take a walk.(sigh. I really, really hope that none of you are holding my horrible summaries against me.)
Relationships: Estela Montoya/Main Character (Endless Summer)
Series: A Year in the Life [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885183
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Where We Love

**APRIL**

“It just doesn’t look right,” Taylor muttered to the laptop. “What am I doing wrong?” She sat cross-legged on the bed, leaning back against a pile of pillows.

IRIS frowned thoughtfully. “Hmmm, I’m not sure. Could you hold it up for me?”

With a frustrated sigh, Taylor held the unfinished sweater up to the webcam. “The pictures didn’t show these stupid little holes, and I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to be so lumpy.”

“Not according to the pattern, no. How’s your stitch count?”

“I think I might be a _little_ off, but a few extra stitches here or there shouldn’t make that much difference. Should it?”

“You’d be surprised... all right, I’ve just looked at the pattern you’re using and I might know what the problem is. Do you have one of my drones handy? If you could activate it, that would let me get a close-up of what could be wrong.”

Stretching out her arm, Taylor fumbled around in the nightstand drawer. “I think I saw one in here... got it.” She pressed a button and released the drone before laying her knitting flat on the bed. “Okay, here goes nothing.” The small orb hovered above the sweater, and a blue beam of light scanned along the rows.

“Ah! I think I’ve identified the problem. It looks like you dropped a few stitches here and there, and then to keep the pattern right, you attempted to add stitches when you realized you were running short.”

“...I might have?”

IRIS smiled. “That’s why you’re lumpy, dear.”

Taylor looked at the sweater in dismay. “Please tell me there’s an easy way to fix it.”

“Oh, the solution is quite easy. Rip the whole thing out and begin again.” IRIS gave her a sympathetic look as the drone went dark and dropped onto the bed. “I had to do that many, many times. It’s part of the learning process.”

Groaning, Taylor picked up her knitting. “At the rate I’m going, Reggie will be in college before I finish this damn thing.”

“Nonsense,” IRIS said calmly. “His birthday is months away and even then, it’ll still be large for a two-year-old. You might need to add a few rows to the sleeves, though – even as a child, Aleister had rather long arms and Reggie seems to have inherited his build.” She paused, and the laptop beeped. “I’ve just sent you a video tutorial with several techniques on how to fix dropped stitches. It’s a fairly simple problem to fix as long as you notice within a row or two of your mistake.”

“Thanks.” Yanking her needles out, Taylor began unraveling the sweater. “Maybe I should just stick with simple things like scarves. People like scarves, don’t they?”

IRIS laughed. “People love scarves, and they’re a wonderful project for the times you want to occupy your hands while you think about something else. But you said you wanted to challenge yourself, remember?”

“I changed my mind,” Taylor said sulkily.

“No, you haven’t. You’ll inevitably make a few mistakes while you’re learning a new skill. The bottom part looked excellent so you’re clearly getting the hang of it. Your stitches are much more even now so you’ve learned how to maintain a constant tension in your wool and that’s one of the most important techniques to learn.”

Winding the red yarn back onto the ball, Taylor frowned. “Thanks. But why didn’t I make those mistakes in the practice pieces you had me do?”

“If I had to guess, I would say that it’s because the swatches didn’t matter as much to you. Making a sweater for Reggie, however, _is_ important to you and, strange as it seems, you can sometimes make more mistakes when you focus too hard. Once you begin to trust your hands, you’ll find yourself falling into a rhythm rather than concentrating on each stitch. It’ll go much more smoothly then.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I know, dear. Just keep working at it, all right? I’ll be leaving you now – I’ve been tracking a pod of sei whales off the coast of Sri Lanka, and I haven’t checked in with them for a few days. I’ve been recording their calls and I believe I might be on the verge of making some sort of rudimentary translation. Heaven knows what I’ll have to say in return, though. At any rate, feel free to call if you need me.”

“I will. Thanks, IRIS.” Taylor gave the computer screen a little wave before she went back to rewinding the bright red yarn into a ball. When the sweater was completely unraveled, she picked up her needles again; rather than starting over, she dropped them and slumped back against the pillows. She was still staring at the ball of yarn when Estela came into the bedroom.

Eying her wife carefully, Estela asked, “You had quite a bit finished this morning. Do I want to know what happened?”

“I don’t want to knit anymore. I think I’ll take up juggling.” Taylor began tossing the ball of yarn from one hand to the other. “I asked IRIS why the sweater didn’t look right, and she gave me an honest answer. Apparently starting over is a lot easier than trying to fix it.”

“That happens a lot more often than I’d like.” Deftly snatching the yarn out of the air, Estela stuck the needles through the ball and dropped it in the basket next to the bed. “Why don’t you start fresh tomorrow?”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

“I have lots of good ideas.” Estela flopped onto the bed and laid her head in Taylor’s lap. “Not that _Senhor_ Fonseca would agree with me on any of them.”

As she began stroking Estela’s long hair, Taylor asked, “I take it your videoconference didn’t go well.”

Estela sighed and closed her eyes. “Oh, no, it went all right with everyone _except_ Fonseca. All the mayors in the region we’re working in are interested in the idea of paying local workers to plant trees rather than cut them down. And they love the idea of boosting their tourism numbers, and bringing in sustainable businesses, and all the rest of it. But Fonseca… his furniture plant is one of the largest employers in that part of Brazil. Less wood means less furniture, which means less profit for him. He’s trying to throw up as many roadblocks as he can.” She sighed again. “And my Portuguese isn’t nearly good enough to keep up with his arguments so I need to rely on the local Rourke International office to handle most of the discussions. All I can do is listen in and try to keep my cool.”

“I’m sure you did a great job.”

“I used the mute button a lot.”

Taylor smiled. “That’s my girl.” She waited for Estela’s eyes to close before she went on. “Do you think the negotiations would be easier in person?”

One corner of Estela’s mouth quirked up. “Are you trying to say that my death glare works better face to face than through a computer screen?”

“I didn’t mean that!” Taylor thought for a moment. “It probably would, though.”

Laughing, Estela opened her eyes and sat up. “You might have a point, but we’ll make the videocalls work for now.” She looked at Taylor more closely. “You still look tired. I hope you’re able to sleep better tonight.”

“I’m sure I will. I suppose an occasional nightmare is normal, right?”

“Most people have them now and then... I know that I do, at least.” Estela still seemed concerned. “How do you feel about a walk before we think about dinner? A little exercise might help you sleep.”

“That’s a good idea. As long as it’s just a walk, though, and you don’t try to make me jog again.”

Estela gave Taylor a soft kiss. “No promises. We need to keep that nice healthy heart of yours in good shape.” Getting off the bed, she said, “I’ll meet you outside, _querida_.”

“Let me tidy up in here and I’ll be right out.” When Estela was gone, Taylor closed her laptop and dropped IRIS’s drone back in the drawer. Maybe it _had_ just been a nightmare. After all, watching her friends die again and again, and then being left alone for years, decades, until the Endless finally died and the cycle of rebirth began again – if that wasn’t enough fuel for a lifetime of nightmares, what was? But last night’s dream had seemed... different, a jumbled series of horrific images from a chaotic world where Rourke the First had once ruled. Her friends were in danger there, too. At least the ones who were still with her were in danger. And Estela was there – not her beautiful, scarred wife, though. This Estela was the Dragon Lady she’d heard about from Mike: unmarked skin, furious eyes, desperately clinging to power. Nothing like _her_ Estela.

Straightening the pillows on the bed, she grabbed a hair clip off the dresser and left the bedroom. As she entered the living room, she paused by the wall of photographs. She was in some of them now – here was one from Christmas. She was collapsed on a couch with Sean and Raj, all of them convulsed in laughter and more than half-drunk on eggnog. Another had been taken by Diego in Elyys’tel; she and Estela stood in their Vaanti wedding clothes, lost in each other’s eyes. The one that always drew her attention, though, had been taken by Mike the day she’d been reunited with her friends. She was still wearing Estela’s clothes and she was wrapped in Estela’s arms as the others all clustered around her, recreating the photo they’d taken right before their final battle with Rourke. She smiled as she remembered the knee-weakening, tremulous awe she’d felt as her family wrapped their arms around her for the first time in so, so long. They’d all changed and grown older over those five years, while she’d remained the same...

Taking a deep breath, she began pulling her hair back off her face. She slipped on her shoes and put on sunscreen, walked out the front door, and went over to where Estela was stretching on the beach. She stood in silent admiration for a moment; her wife’s flexibility was... remarkable. When she was close enough to be heard without shouting, she asked, “Would you still love me if I cut my hair?”

Surprised, Estela straightened up. “I’d obviously file for divorce immediately,” she said sarcastically. “Of course I’d still love you! What brought this on?”

“You wouldn’t believe how often I have to pull blonde hairs out of my knitting and besides that, I’m ready to try something different. If I don’t like it short, it’ll grow back. Right?”

“Right.” Estela slipped an arm around Taylor’s waist. “Anything you want to do is fine with me. What kind of style are you thinking of?”

“I’m thinking of maybe shoulder length or a bit shorter. I’ll consult Michelle, of course.” As they passed a flowering shrub, Taylor snapped off two bright yellow blossoms. She tucked one behind Estela’s ear and carefully secured the other in her hair clip.

“Oh, you’ll definitely need to ask Michelle,” Estela said with a grin as they began walking along the beach. “She won’t insist that you take her advice, but she’ll be hurt if you don’t ask her opinion.”

“Exactly.” Taylor laughed. She stopped when she saw something glistening at her feet. “Hey, look at this... you don’t think it’s...?” Bending down to get a closer look, she smiled as she picked up the small object. “It’s just a piece of sea glass.”

“It’s pretty.” Estela looked at the smooth, aquamarine glass. “What did you think it was, though?” Taylor started to answer but she hesitated, her smile slipping a bit. In a flash, Estela understood. “You probably wouldn’t find a crystal just lying on the beach. There are still crystals around, though – according to IRIS, there are still a lot buried on La Huerta. I know where some of them are but most of them are deep underneath Mount Atropo. Even aside from the whole ‘wading through magma’ problem, they won’t be easy to get to. It’s not very likely that we’ll randomly stumble across one out here.”

Taylor turned the sea glass over, then held it up to the light. “I suppose that’s true. Still, part of me almost hopes I’ll find one someday. I... think I’d like to have a connection to Vaanu, even a tiny one.” She slipped the piece of glass into her pocket and, taking Estela’s hand, began walking again.

After a while, Estela asked quietly, “Do you ever miss Vaanu or – you know, the way you were before?”

“Not a bit,” Taylor replied at once. “But... I’m grateful. I think they began turning back toward Earth even before you started gathering the crystals. They knew I was still... I don’t know how to say this. I was still _me_ , still a separate entity. I made Vaanu complete and helped them escape Earth, but they couldn’t ignore that there was still a non-Vaanu element swirling around inside them. I think they wanted to help me the same way I helped them. They wanted to make me complete again, and that meant bringing me back home. It meant bringing me back to you.”

Estela grasped Taylor’s hand a little tighter. “All the way across the universe... the things you must have seen,” she murmured. “Not many people would have been strong enough to turn their back on something like that.” Tentatively, she went on. “Actually, I’ve been wondering about something and I suppose this is a good time to ask. Those first moments when I saw you separating from Vaanu, you were changing, cycling through different bodies. Did you deliberately choose the way you look now?”

Taylor frowned thoughtfully. “It wasn’t exactly a choice... or if it was, it was a choice I made a long time ago. I have weird, vague memories of all the cycles we went through. Vaanu didn’t understand much about humans so when they created me those first few times, they sort of pulled random DNA from all of you to put me together. I’d be male, then female, and I looked different every time. But as it kept happening, I... I started to feel like this was me.” She gestured at her body. “This felt like home. This body felt _right_ somehow. I think that in that split second when the plane got close enough to La Huerta and I came together, I almost always tried to stop at this body. So when I was making that last, permanent choice, this is what I wanted to be.” Her steps slowed. “But... you weren’t the first humans to come to La Huerta, not even close. Rourke had already built the Celestial, the observatory... all the different sites he constructed would have meant hundreds of workers over the years. And before them, there were Malatesta’s pirates, Flora and Eugene and all the other wedding guests – I wonder why Vaanu didn’t try to create an intermediary out of any of them?”

“I never thought about that. Maybe it was because of that weird electrical storm we went through?” Estela asked uncertainly.

“Maybe.” But Taylor didn’t sound convinced. “It’s just... I remember flying through the storm with all of you. That means I already existed, and that means that the storm _wasn’t_ the cause of my creation.”

Trying to lighten the mood, Estela said, “It’s probably just as well. What do you think would have happened if Vaanu had started with... say, Yvonne and some random group of Arachnid soldiers?”

Taylor had to laugh at that. “That would have made the Endless even weirder, I bet.” She stared up at the bright blue sky. “Do you think she’s still up there?”

Estela followed her gaze. “Reinforcing the Earth’s magnetic field, you mean? I think she is. IRIS said that the readings almost immediately went back to normal right after the Endless vanished and you appeared, so _something_ healed the damage that the other Rourke did to the field. I can’t think of anything else that would have worked so quickly.”

“I wonder if she’s happy up there... I hope so. She earned a little peace.” Taylor looked at Estela. “You know, as long as we’re having a profound conversation, can I ask _you_ something?”

“Of course.”

“You and Aleister... when I left, the two of you had just discovered that Rourke was your father. You’re so close today, but it couldn’t have been easy to get to that point. How did you and Aleister come to terms with everything?”

Estela shrugged. “It _wasn’t_ easy. I’d hated Rourke for years so when we found out Aleister was his son, I was more than ready to hate him too. Then when he betrayed us, I felt like that was confirmation that I’d been right all along. But then I found out that Rourke was my father too, and what did that make me? What did that make my mother, for sleeping with him and then never telling me the truth? And finding out that Aleister was actually Rourke’s clone, not his son – it was so horribly painful for him, and for me. And then when you left....” Estela slowly came to a stop. She looked into the jungle, her eyes distant. “He didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know who _I_ was. We were both lost, both looking for some kind of meaning. Fortunately, Aleister had Grace, and she helped him find a purpose. All I had was your memory, and that wasn’t enough.” They started walking again, their fingers entwined together. “When Aleister started reaching out to me, I... well, I didn’t quite ignore him. I acknowledged his messages but I wasn’t ready to respond to him in any meaningful way. He told me that he wanted to break apart his – _our_ father’s company and start again, and I thought, _of course that’s what a Rourke would say. He’s planning something._ But I was a Rourke too, as hard as that was to admit.”

“You’re a Montoya,” Taylor said firmly.

“Yes. And I’m also a Rourke. That was difficult to accept.” Estela shrugged. “Sometimes, it still is. At any rate, Aleister finally convinced me to come to London. He took me into an office where he’d laid out organizational charts of the company, models of Rourke facilities around the world, maps of La Huerta, financial documents – first the figures that Rourke made public to the world, and then the truth of how much he really controlled. It was so _much_. If Aleister really was anything like Everett Rourke, he would never have told me about that. And then he showed me what he wanted to do, how he thought we could turn our father’s misdeeds into something positive. He wanted to begin by spending our fortune on things Rourke would hate the most, and that was what convinced me.” She gave Taylor a small smile. “We started on La Huerta. He wanted to erase as many traces of our father as possible. We rescued those poor people in the stasis pods, we dismantled the observatory and MASADA, the Celestial.... We took down everything but the Elysian Lodge. Even though that’s where my mother died, I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing it destroyed. Aleister and Varyyn agreed to leave it standing.”

Taylor nodded. “The others told me that the lodge is still standing, and that the Vaanti use it as a base during hunting season. Maybe you and I could go up there sometime and play in the snow again.”

Estela shook her head regretfully. “There’s no snow anymore, _querida_. When La Huerta started returning to normal, its little ice age zone disappeared,” Estela said with a trace of apology. “It’s still lovely, of course, and since it’s at a much higher elevation it’s far cooler than it is here near the shore. But we’ll never ice-skate on La Huerta again.”

“I see.” Taylor squeezed Estela’s hand before releasing it so she could put her arm around her wife’s waist. “Well, even without snow, I’d still like to see it with you again. Let’s head up there sometime soon.”

“I’d like that.” Estela returned the embrace. “Well, like I said, all of the other buildings were dismantled. The workers even let me use one of the bulldozers to knock down a few walls,” she said with a soft laugh. “That was... surprisingly healing. After I left the island, I went back to San Trobida for a little while. Finally, I agreed to meet Aleister at the New York office. Tio Nicolas was against the whole idea, and I couldn’t blame him. He still hadn’t met Aleister and he said that the Rourkes had never brought anything but heartache and misery to our family and to the world. But... I was ready. I flew to the States, and I signed the papers, and just like that, I owned half of a multi-billion dollar corporation. And then, within five minutes, the corporation was dissolved and reorganized, and I became a much poorer woman.”

“But still a millionaire,” Taylor said with a teasing nudge.

“Well... yes.” She gave Taylor a slightly embarrassed grin. “That took some getting used to. But I liked Aleister and Grace’s idea of getting rid of as much money as possible, as quickly as possible. Aside from what RI is doing, I’ve been supporting San Trobida’s efforts to recover from the revolution. General Salazar closed the university in La Colina years ago – that’s one of the reasons my mother left the country to look for work in the first place. They’ve been trying to start it up again.” Estela couldn’t keep the pride from her voice when she went on. “They should be able to reopen next year, rather than the five years they were expecting. We’re building new schools in the surrounding area too, and we hope to keep expanding.”

“That’s wonderful!” Coming to a stop, Taylor pulled Estela down for a kiss. “ _You’re_ wonderful, and amazing, and – and – I am so _proud_ of you!”

“I didn’t do that much,” Estela said with a blush. “I signed some checks, that’s all.”

“Shut up. You’re amazing, and you’re not allowed to argue with me.” Looking around the beach, Taylor added, “Do you think we’ve walked far enough? I think I’m getting hungry.”

Laughing, Estela turned them around. “You’re just trying to avoid jogging, aren’t you?”

“You know me so well.” They walked in silence for a while. Finally, Taylor asked, “But isn’t it hard trying to get everything done from here on La Huerta? I don’t just mean working with the university – you’re doing all that work with Rourke International, too. I’m sure it’d be a lot easier if you were living in San Trobida, or even in the States or London. You wouldn’t have to rely on Jake to fly you back and forth all the time.”

Estela shrugged. “Maybe, but just because it’s hard, that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. We’re making it work.”

“...What if you didn’t have to do it from a distance, though?”

Shaking her head, Estela gave Taylor a stern look. “We’ve been over this. You matter more to me than everything else combined. I’m not leaving you here just so I can take care of business affairs.”

Taylor took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the ocean, of the flowers in her and Estela’s hair. “I’m not asking you to.” Coming to a halt, she took Estela’s hands in hers. “Estela, I think it’s time.” Estela stared her, first in confusion, then in slowly dawning comprehension, and Taylor smiled. “I think I’m ready to leave La Huerta.”

_Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr._


End file.
